


How Lance Became An Altean Prince

by No1DigiBakuFan



Series: Voltron Fairy Tale AUs With Too Many Pairings [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, Pining Lance (Voltron), Poverty, star-crossed lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 16:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11650767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/No1DigiBakuFan/pseuds/No1DigiBakuFan
Summary: Who doesn't love the occasional rags to riches story.





	How Lance Became An Altean Prince

Lance shakes his head as he forces himself from his slightly warm bed. It’s not much, but it’s better than the chilly air around him. But he has a job to do, so he’s got no choice but to do it.

He pads downstairs, slipping on his work shoes at the door before entering the kitchen. He drinks some water, then turns the stove on. He puts the frying pan over the stove, spraying oil in it. Then he turns the grill on to warm, ensuring a tray is already in there.

Lance grabs a bowl from the cupboard above him and opens the box beside him. He begins cracking eggs and mixing them in the bowl, adding a splash of milk and setting the mixture to the side.

Lance rummages through the cool storer to find the vegetables he’d picked last night and thinks of how he got to this point in his life.

_Lance didn’t always have to wake up before dawn to prepare food for a family that don’t really like him. There was once a time when Lance woke up with the rest of his older siblings to help them out with the chores. Their father would’ve already made breakfast while their mother would be preparing to go to work. His father would kiss her on the cheek and she’d give Lance and his siblings kisses on the forehead before going through the door._

_After eating, the siblings would draw straws to see who’d wash up and whenever it wasn’t Lance, he’d go with one of the older siblings to watch them do a chore and then copy them, so he could do it on his own in the future. He learned pretty quickly thanks to this method._

_But as he got older, money became tighter. His brother started getting sick from working in the mines and his mother was almost never home because of how much she needed to work to keep them alive. Lance hated it when she did come home; not because he didn’t want to see her or resented her for staying away all the time. He hated it because she always looked ready to collapse and she’d try to hide a bruise somehow._

_Lance remembered his parents fighting over the bruises. How his father would be in tears begging his wife to stop. How his mother would yell that they didn’t have a choice and if she could give the children food, who cared what happened to her?_

_Lance felt guilty every time he ate after that while watching his older siblings and parents have smaller meals than him._

_He’d always ask why._

_His sister would laugh and say, “You’re a midget Lance, we’re just trying to help you grow up a little.”_

_He’d pout, “I am not a midget, you’re just stupidly tall!”_

_Everyone would laugh and Lance would pretend he wasn’t bothered by the fact he had more food than the others._

Lance finally gets his hands on the cucumber and tomatoes, grinning as he grabs the knife and chopping board. He cuts the cucumber slices into quarters and the tomatoes into eighths, then dumps them in the frying pan. They begin to sizzle and he mixes them around, trying to ensure they all get a good bit of the heat.

He arranges the tomatoes pieces in a pattern near the edge of the pan, pushing the cucumber further in but still spreading it out.

Lance leans back to look at it.

Satisfied, he slowly pores the mixture into the pan as memories slowly pore into his mind.

_When Lance was old enough to work, he did. He worked for whoever would hire, doing whatever jobs were possible. The pay wasn’t the best, but Lance was helping his family and that’s all he cared about, so he stuck at it._

_When his sister learned he was working, she’d said, “About time you got off your butt and found something you like to do. Good for you, Lance!”_

_But he knew that wasn’t what she really though._

_Lance knew when his back was turned, she’d muttered to their brother, “Even the youngest is working now. We really are in trouble.”_

_Lance knew he wouldn’t find good work in this backwater town. Not when money was already so tight in the village that almost nowhere was hiring. Not when what little he got barely paid for a meal for one person, let alone for his family._

_So at the next family dinner when his mother was home, he made the announcement, “I want to leave town. Try to find better work and send money back here.”_

_His family were shocked and upset by his decision. He’d always been their spoiled little boy, they weren’t ready to let him go out into such a dangerous world. But he’d made up his mind and his family weren’t going to stop him. So they helped him pack his bags, wished him luck, made him promise to write to them every chance he got and watched him leave on the back of a cart that didn’t notice him hitchhiking._

Lance watches as the omelette sizzles in the pan, grating cheese over it, watching it melt and get absorbed into the mix. He pokes and prods at the still mostly liquid and swirls it around.

Lance puts it into the grill and shuts the door. He grabs the veg and puts them away. Then he pulls out the meat and starts cutting and ripping it up. He gives the bowl a quick wash with clean water, before grabbing more eggs to crack and the milk to pore.

Lance stirs the mixture, then goes back to the grill to retrieve the omelette. Finding it no longer a liquid but a lovely golden brown, Lance flips the pan so the omelette falls on a plate. He sets the plate in a heat tight cupboard and sprays the frying pan with oil once more.

He puts the meat in and stirs, mind lulled into memories by the methodical action.

_The cart driver had noticed him at some point, Lance knew that much. But thankfully, the man didn’t kick him off, which Lance was grateful for. Once in the heart of the city, Lance got off and began looking for work._

_The job centre had been packed when he walked in, but he didn’t dare let himself be pushed around. He told the people there his skills, how much he was willing to work for and they said they’d contact him when they found something for him._

_Lance waited in the shadow of an Inn for a day._

_Two days._

_Three days._

_By the fourth day no one had come and Lance was desperate. He ran to the centre of the down and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Does anyone have any work for me?!”_

_At first, people only stared at him before going on about their way._

_Lance sat down in front of the fountain, feeling defeated._

_“I’ve got some work for you.”  
_

_Lance turned his head to find a boy roughly his own age standing there, with pure white hair, a too sincere smile and attempted soft eyes._

_Lance didn’t care, “When can I start?”_

_The man grinned, “Now.”_

Lance adds the eggs to the pan, mixing it some more and then throwing fruit sauce into the mix. He puts the cheese away and then places the frying pan in the grill.

He sighs, whipping his face, glad that most of breakfast is done-

Dingaling!

“Cinders!” Lotor’s disgustingly smug voice calls, “Come upstairs and give father and I our breakfast!”

Lance sighs and goes to the stairs, calling up, “It’s almost ready, sirs!”

“Well hurry up, we’ve got some very important places to be today!” Lotor snaps back.

Lance calls again, “Of course, sirs!”

He goes back to the heat tight cupboard and pulls the first omelette out for a final re-heat in the grill to ensure it’s perfection.

Lance sighs as he grabs the stupidly expensive herbs and puts them at the side of the plate. He grabs the fruity alcohol Lotor’s so fond of drinking first thing in the morning, then the brandy he can’t remember the name of that Zarkon chugs down like it’s water.

He pores two glasses, one of each drink, then puts the bottles away. He retrieves the omelettes from the grill, placing them on two different trays and takes to the stairs.

Lance has worked for Lotor for the last 8 years of his life and he knows he’s changed a lot since then. He isn’t as confident in himself as he used to be. He isn’t as honest, especially not in his family’s letters. He’s sent more or less all his paycheck straight to his family to ensure Lotor doesn’t come up with some way to force Lance to return it. It’s more or less left him in debt, but what can he do?

Lance knocks on the door with his head.

“Cinders come in!” Lotor calls.

Oh how Lance loved that nickname. So what if he had to sleep in front of the fire place in the winter? At least it was warm, even if he did look like a mucky pup next thing in the morning.

Lotor smiles at him, one of those fake smiles he uses to please party goers, “Why, aren’t you looking lovely today, Cinders?”

Lance nods his head, “Thank you, sir.”

Lotor looks at the breakfast, “Is that for me? Why thank you, Cinders.” He eyes the omelette, scowling, “But the veg could have done with a bit more time in the pan.”

Lance grits his teeth, “My apologies, sir.”

Lotor tuts him, “Really Cinders, you’ve made me the same thing for breakfast for the last 8 years, the least you could do is be good at it by now.”

Lance bows his head, “Sorry, sir.”

Lotor sighs, “Shoo-shoo, I’m busy. I’ve got a lot of work to do today. Princess Allura is having a ball.”

Lance’s eyes widen, but he does as he’s asked, “Very well, sir.”

He leaves the room, heart pounding in his chest, memories flooding his head with every beat.

_“Ughhh!” Allura heaved at the weeds, “Why is this so hard?! I could beat a man twice my size but this is what’s getting to me?!”  
_

_Lance laughed, “It takes practice and technique, my friend. Let me show you.”_

_He put his hand over Allura’s and ignored the blood rushing to his face._

_He also ignored Allura’s adorable gasp of surprise._

_“You see, weeds can be difficult because they can dig so deep into the soil. The trick is,” Lance put her hands nearer the ground, “to dig the bugger out. If you dig a little further in, it becomes a lot easier to get the whole plant out at once.”  
_

_“That makes sense.” Allura turned to him, smiling, “Thanks, Lance.”  
_

_Then she turned back to the task at hand to try to dig the plant out._

_Lance noticed a speck of mud on her skin, wondering if she knew and would be okay with him whipping it off for he-_

_“No problem, ‘Lura!” He turns back to his own weeds.  
_

_He heard her giggle._

_He knew he was fucked._

Lance still was fucked. He’d done his best to let her go, he knew their first meeting had been a mistake; a girl trying to get away from duty running into a boy who had no choice but to stay on duty at all times. There was no way they should’ve been able to cross paths again.

Yet Allura had still visited the vegetable patch and he’d show her how to do the chores since she was so insistent on helping him out. She’d never been to a farm in her life, so first lesson ended up being a name game to help Allura remember what everything was for.

He shouldn’t have enjoyed her company that much. He shouldn’t have let her charm her way into his heart. He shouldn’t have jokingly flirted with her. He shouldn’t have let her jokingly flirt back. He shouldn’t have let her laughter become his favorite sound. He shouldn’t have let her smile brighten up the world. He shouldn’t have let Allura get so close to him.

But Lance had.

And sooner or later, he knew he’d pay the price.

It appears the price has finally come to pass.

“I’m sorry, what did you say sir?” Lance asks.

Zarkon frowns at him, “I said, King Alfor is holding a ball this evening in an attempt to find Princess Allura a suitable husband. My son and I have been invited, so I need you to get the best suits for us from the tailors.”

Lance nods, “Understood sir.”

“Good.” Zarkon turns to his paperwork, “Now leave.”

Lance does as he’s asked.

He ends up in the garden and ignores his tears as he tends to the crops.

* * *

Allura sighs as she looks in the mirror.

A beautiful girl stares back at her in a white dress with a black fleece, blue and pink flowers bursting all over the dress, purple ear-rings dangling from her ears. Her hair’s up, displaying her crown, the pink scales around her eyes and her pointed ears.

Everything everyone expects from Altea’s Princess.

Everything everyone expects from Alfor’s daughter.

Everything everyone expects from a woman about to marry for necessity.

She grins at her reflection.

Isn’t she lucky her father allowed her to mix things up for the night.

Allura reaches for her crown, removing it and placing it on a bedside desk. She instead grabs the mask there and places it over her face. She unties her hair and wills it to turn a different color. A simple brown would be nice.

The girl who looks back at her now is different. With a mask over her eyes and a part of her nose, kept in place by a strap around the back of her head, her identity is far more concealed. The white mask with the blooming pink and blue flowers to match her dress, plus the black feathers to accent the mask and the small gems around the eye holes make her harder to see. The brown hair turns her into someone unrecognizable.

The girl who looks back at her isn’t Altea’s Princess.

The girl who looks back at her isn’t Alfor’s daughter.

The girl who looks back at her isn’t a woman about to marry for necessity.

Allura smiles and twirls, allowing her white boots to peak out from the dress, increasing her already impressive height.

The people may think this is a ball to find her a husband.

But they don’t need to know this is also Allura’s way of doing a final hora as an unmarried woman.

She’ll have fun tonight either way.

Hopefully if Keith doesn’t fail her.

* * *

Lance breathes a sigh of relief as he watches Lotor and Zarkon’s carriage slip away towards the palace.

A night alone that will likely be spent attempting to forget the girl he likes is getting married.

Lance turns back to the door and opens it up-

“Wait!”

Lance blinks as he turns around to find a horseman charging down the road and looking in his direction. From the uniform, he looks as if he’s a member of the palace guards.

Lance gulps nervously as the man approaches, “Can I help you, sir?”

“Are you Lance?” The man asks, out of breathe, a package in his hands.

Lance nods, “Why do you ask?”

The man offers him the package, “A dear friend wanted me to give you this. Be back outside soon, or you’ll be late.”

Lance blinks, “Late for what?”

The man rolls his eyes, “The ball! Hurry up!”

Lance raises an eyebrow and opens the package, “If I’m going to the ball, then you must be a miracle worker.”

He looks inside the package and gapes.

There appears to be some kind of blue material in there and a note. Written in Allura’s beautiful handwriting.

_Dear Lance,_

_I apologize in advance if Keith was rude to you, he’s just trying to do his best to ensure we both get a good night. I know it’s been a while since we’ve seen one another and I know I’ll have to choose a husband tonight._

_But I desperately want to see you and hope you’ll be willing to come tonight. If you don’t want to or for other reasons can not come, please don’t worry, I’ll find another way for us to see one another. If you’d rather not see me again though, telling me on the back of this letter._

_The outfit in the box is meant to be worn to the ball and will likely survive the ride to the castle. You’ll find appropriate shoes and a mask waiting for you. Everyone will be given a mask when they arrive, so you likely won’t recognize me. But I’ll find you, I promise._

_Ride safely,  
Love Allura_

Lance gapes at the box and the note.

“Well, what are you waiting for?!” Keith snaps, “Do you really wanna keep her waiting?!”

Lance runs inside, “I’ll be back in a tick!”

Keith rolls his eyes and turns his head to his horse, “Why do I agree to this stuff, Red?”

Red whinnies.

* * *

Allura singles Lance out in the crowd and thanks the royal tailors for teaching her how to get someone’s measurements without touching them because that suit looks like it fits just right.

It’s a soft blue suit, slightly puffed in the shoulders to make them appear broader, a white shirt underneath and a glittery tie on his neck. The white shoes don’t throw off the outfit luckily and appear undamaged by the ride. His mask, a soft blue with glitter all over it, blue feathers to accent and specks of gems around the eye holes, fits him perfectly.

Lance turns his head towards her as she approaches; he smiles in recognition and Allura tries to ignore the jump her heart makes.

“Why hello there, ma’am.” Lance smiles at her, offering a hand, “Care for a dance?”

Allura smiles and takes his hand, “I would be honored.”

Lance chuckles and puts a hand on her waist, “I hope you know how then, because I certainly don’t.”

Allura laughs and places a hand on his shoulder, “I’ll teach you. Don’t worry.”

He grins, “So long as I have you close, I know I won’t need to.”

She smiles, “I could say the same of you, Lance.”

He blushes and she falls even further for him, “Wow, that means a lot coming from you, ‘Lura. Thanks.”

She tightens her hold on him and he tightens back, “No need to thank me. Now, let’s teach you how to dance.”

“Lead the way, ma’lady.” Lance smirks.

Allura chuckles, “First you…”

* * *

Lance sighs happily as he sits in the grass, face pink from alcohol. Allura watches him, giggling thanks to the alcohol, in a swing.

“This has been the best night of my life.” Lance declares.

Allura nods, “Yeah, I wish it’d go on forever. I wish the sun would never rise again if this could just go on.”

“But then our sleep schedules will be wacky and we’ll look less beautiful!” Lance whines, turning towards Allura, “And we can’t have that, you’re too beautiful to endure such torture!”

Allura laughs and gets off her swing, sitting in the grass next to him; the tailors are going to hate the grass stains on their beautiful creation, but she really doesn’t care, “Don’t sell yourself short Lance. You’re beautiful too.”

“But my schedule is already kinda bad.” Lance states, “I’m sure I can handle an eternal night without looking any less handsome the next time I awaken.”

Allura shrugs and falls on her back, so her head is by Lance’s, “Either way, you’re still beautiful and I want you to know that.”

Lance giggles, “Thanks ‘Lura. You’re beautiful, too! Like, so beautiful, I kinda don’t think it’s real half the time.”

Allura rolls towards him, “Believe me, I’m real.” She takes a deep breathe and shuffles closer, “I’m as real as my crush on you is.”

Lance blinks, “Wait, what?” He turns his head towards Allura, “You’re crushing on me?”

“Pretty hard I’d say.” Allura continues, “You don’t have to do anything about it, just wanted you to kno-”

Lance cut her off with a kiss to the lips. Nothing more innocent than a peck really but Allura still finds herself speechless.

He pulls back and hesitantly cradles her face, running his thumb over her cheek; at some point he’d climbed over her, legs tangled, supporting his upper body with his elbows, “God I wanted to do that for so long. Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”

Allura smiles and tilts her head to kiss the hand on her face, “It’s real. You’re not dreaming.”

Lance smiles and kisses her again. Allura kisses back, wrapping her arms around his neck. Lance braces his elbows on the ground and continues to rub her face, their masks slipping off. Allura’s hair starts to turn white due to the lack of concentration to keep it brown.

Lance opens his eyes and pulls back, “Would it be too much to say I love you?”

Allura nods, “Little bit, yeah.”

“In that case then,” Lance kisses her nose, “I really,” he kisses her right cheek, “really,” left cheek, “really,” chin, “really,” forehead, “really,” lips, “like you.”

Allura laughs and runs her fingers through his hair, “I like you too, Lance. So much.”

The two touch foreheads, allowing their hearts to intertwine, their souls to resonate, their minds to calm.

They open their eyes.

Kiss once more.

_And They All Lived Happily Ever After; The End_


End file.
